Sick

Little did we know...

Hours before the vomit fest began.

I recently found myself housebound with two sick babies. It was a week I hope never to repeat, though I know that is highly improbable.

If you don't mind, I will now whine and moan and share self pitying thoughts over this experience.

In a family of four, a stomach virus is an event. When that family consists of two adults and two very small children (ages 1 and 2), and you all have the grave misfortune of falling ill at the same time, it is a catastrophe.

I have been a mother for just under three years now. I have learned to dread illness with vigor previously unknown.

For mommies do not have the luxury of sick time.

Gone are the days of lounging on the couch in a Sudafed induced stupor, napping and watching daytime TV.

This “event” demands a complete cancellation of previously scheduled activities, time off work, and a general postponement of daily life to attend the comfort and well being of sick children. It requires gallons of Pedialyte, loads upon loads of laundry, much disinfectant, and midnight trips to Walmart for Tylenol and popsicles.

It is exhausting and stressful. It requires a whole lot of self sacrifice, and compassion and patience. Sick toddlers are not easy to appease.

During this awful time of stomach distress, I found myself passionately wishing for live-in nannies, housekeepers and nurses. For those babies were quite persistent in both their demands and their bodily emissions. I could not keep up.

Though suffering frequent and intense intestinal upset, my girls were just well enough to resent their confinement. They were bored, restless and very tired of being sick. In other words, they were primed and ready to inflict misery upon their mother, who was desperately trying to keep them comfortable, clean, entertained and, most importantly, hydrated.

One minute they were vying for cuddle time in my lap, the next minute I was rushing one or both of them to the bathroom. This was followed by a general sanitization of all soiled persons and areas. After we were sufficiently cleaned, the girls would make feeble attempt at play or whine for popsicles and then repeat it all over again. There was a lot of crying for any reason (theirs and mine) and a lot of tantrum throwing for no reason at all (mostly theirs).

I was up several consecutive nights monitoring fevers and changing diapers and washing sheets and generally managing their illness while suffering from it myself.

I largely ignored my own fever and illness until I burned out. I had nothing left to give. The proverbial cup was completely empty.

But there they were. Cheeks flushed with fever, eyes glistening with tears, two sick and cranky little girls needing their mother.

Sometimes it is hard to be the one they call “Mommy,” especially when Mommy just wants to go to bed.

Instead, Mommy says a prayer, takes a deep breath, and simply endures.

I soon find myself soothing the tantrums and wiping the tears and cleaning the messes.

And an amazing thing happened.

I found that my cup was not quite as empty as I thought. I found that I somehow have just enough.

It seems like these sick days will never end but in a matter of days I feel the immeasurable relief of restored health. In a matter of weeks I will think of it with a grimace. In a matter of months it will be nothing more than a bad memory.

And in a year I get to repeat it all over again.

Hopefully it will not be quite as severe next year (I suspect Rotavirus was the culprit in this instance). And they will be a year older, which might make it easier. Most of all, I hope that we can at least get it one at a time rather than all at once.

I believe my rant has now run its course. If not, I'm sure I will be back soon ;)

Wishing you all a healthy and happy October.